And If I Don't Make It
by Aravis'sSilverQuill
Summary: An Angelina/Montague story.
1. Prolouge

A/N: I haven't written a fanfiction in a very long time. I'm still out to complete my others, after years of sitting still in the archive, but when this popped into my head, there was no ignoring it.

I'm uploading this "Prologue" to see if there's any interest in it. If there isn't I wont bother to continue. You wont have to here from me until some other Fiction starts playing on my mind. I think I'm just a bit too eager to get on and read HP7. I'm hope Angelina is in it!

**Montague, Angelina Johnson and all reference to the Wizarding world belong to JK Rowling**

* * *

"And If I don't make it known that  
I've loved you all along  
just like sunny days that  
we ignore because  
we're all dumb & jaded  
and I hope to God I figure out  
what's wrong"

Our Lady Peace (4am)

**Prologue: A Change from the Ordinary**

It was an ordinary start to yet another ordinary May morning in Little Hay-borough Way, the grey of the clouds over head were stubborn to neither rain, nor give way for the sun to shine down on one of London's most prestigious streets, threatening to plague the following twenty-four hours with its glum, bitter, ordinariness. And just as it had occurred the following morning, and an uncountable array or mornings before that, did a little boy sit glumly on his front lawn.

As uninviting as it may seem to many, the little boy sat there early that morning in his darkly decorated front garden and stared vacantly down at the neatly mowed earth, not a single thought echoing through his mind. He was very used to switching himself off from the world and allowing himself to think of nothing at all. It was in the mornings that this little boy found he could concentrate the most, and on that particular morning in May he found himself quite enjoying it.

This little boy had very dark, vacant brown eyes (courtesy of his mother); of which when looked upon without careful studying would appear black. Black eyes – people always said – that when stared into for too long would frighten your soul into leaving your body and kill you before you had a chance to look away. It was said that he had black eyes void of feeling. The little boy didn't know it yet, but it was the power he could retain through his eyes that would one day have Wizards and Witches alike (to some extent) worship his very existence. He had pale, creamy alabaster skin, and dark brown hair that had recently been shaved to a very miniscule amount, appearing to anyone who cared to take notice like an eight year and ten month old skin head. The look wasn't something he entirely supported, but children his age were prone to catching things, and before his mother had taken the shaver to his once curly mane, his father had told him that nits were not a nice thing to catch.

For a boy who was in two months time to be celebrating his ninth birthday, he was quite small for his age. A lot of children in his year at school currently stood a few inches taller than him, and seemed to look at it as a reason to ignore him. No one wanted to have to look into his dark, soul eating eyes, and therefore found it safer and more convenient just to pretend he didn't exist. At times he didn't mind this, it at least gave him time alone to think, or as he preferred; just not to think at all.

As the little boy sat there, thinking of nothing in particular, a small chestnut coloured squirrel ran unnoticed past his front gate and scurried quickly up a nearby tree.

"Don't go!" A tiny voice carried down the road, followed almost imminently by the clattering of hurried footsteps. "I have peanuts and-" There was a load thud and a small whimper, and the little boy looked up from the ground and at the occurrences that were suddenly taking place outside his front gate.

The scene before him wasn't particularly normal for such an ordinary morning in Little Hay-Borough Way, and he looked upon it with a sudden air of interest. For on the pavement only a few metres ahead of him was a little girl, sprawled in a tangled mess after it seemed having taken quite a nasty fall. It appeared to the little boy that her body would lay lifeless for an eternity, for she didn't move and he was almost certain she had stopped breathing. The thought occurred to him that he should probably hurry home and alert someone about the little girl who had just died outside his house, but before he had begun to get up a small sound escaped her lips and he decided it was probably best to stay put.

With great effort, the girl pushed herself up from the ground and tugged at the back of her skirt, cherry printed knickers no longer on show. Rolling onto her rear she sat up and took a better look at the damage she had done to herself. Both her knees now oozed red liquid that went on to stain her white socks, her palms were grazed from where she had tried to stop the fall, and the left side of her face was scratched and smeared with blood.

She bit down on her lip and tried to overcome the stinging sensation. Wiping away a single tear that had managed to escape her glassy eyes, the little girl turned, then startled once she noticed she was being watched.

"How long have you been sitting there?" She inquired, looking straight towards a rather ghoulish looking little boy who sat solitary in his grand front yard. She noticed he had very peculiar eyes.

When he didn't answer, she shrugged and got to her feet, collecting the fallen packet of peanuts she had attempted to feed to the squirrel.

"Who are you?" The little girl asked, walking towards the gate. She looked over the little boy and concluded within an instant that he was a bit strange. She wondered whether she should take the time out to speak to him, as she wasn't sure she should be talking to such strange people on the morning of her second day in Little Hay-Borough Way.

"Who are _you_?" The boy asked defiantly. She looked happy to see he could speak.

"I'm Angelina Johnson." She grinned. "Who are you?"

Angelina Johnson was a tall girl for her age (eight years and eight months old), the rest of her body failing miserably to catch up with her long, awkward legs. She had slim, oval brown eyes and sepia brown skin, accompanied by a long face (courtesy of her father) and a wide grin. Her hair was raven black, thick and wavy, and on that morning in May she had tied it into two low messy bunches at either side of her head.

"Thaddeus Montague." He said shortly, after watching her attempt to stifle a chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"That's a weird name!" She beamed, considering who in their right mind would be so cruel as to name their son Thaddeus.

He shot her a dirty look. "Not that it's any of your business," he stated "but Thaddeus was my granddads name. And anyway, it's not half as weird as Angelina."

Angelina frowned and discarded his comment. The boy was obviously very easily offended. Besides, she had more pressing matters to attend to; Angelina was now bleeding into her shoes.

"Could I come inside and borrow some plasters?" She asked, quickly changing the subject.

Montague (as most people called him), muttered something under his breath about stupid little girls wasting his time.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

He growled and looked away from her. "I said no."

Angelina's mouth formed an O and she looked awkwardly up at the sky for a while, pulling different faces. "Well why not?"

Montague looked up at her as if she'd gone insane. Why was she still speaking to him? She obviously didn't know what was what around Little Hay-Borough Way. "You should probably run back home before I turn you into a pig or something." He started to say "I can do that now you know. My dad taught me. People around here don't talk to me because they know how powerful my family are. We could wipe your whole blood-line out in a second." he snapped his fingers for effect. "So I'm warning you now before my dad comes out here and finds you standing on his property. Go home and get your own stinking plasters."

Angelina ignored him entirely. What was he talking about, blood-lines and turning people into pigs? It was obvious to her that the boy was prone to telling lies, but her evaluation never quite matched the right reasons, and only later on in her adulthood did she come to understand the meaning of what Montague had been saying that day. As for turning her into a pig, it wasn't a likely possibility, as he wasn't yet old enough to posses him own wand. Even with his toy one he couldn't quite seem to get a simple Sickle to hover three inches from its surface.

It was her decision to brush aside his arrogant, slightly odd personality and try to befriend him anyway that forms the beginning of this story. Angelina couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something stray about this "Thaddeus Montague" that she rather liked. They were both only eight then, so the future was nothing either tended to ponder on for too long. However, Angelina often wondered sometime in the near future, what would have happened to her if she had just walked past the odd little boy and continue about her day. Would she be caught up in the same ordeal she currently had to face? The deaths, that feeling of dread and betrayal, the terrible pang she felt in her heart whenever she looked at him, this man of power and hate? What would have happened, if all those years ago, she hadn't decided to give him a second chance? It disappointed her whenever she thought about it, just the wonder of what might have happened if she hadn't chased the squirrel down Little Hay-Borough Way and stumble upon the boy with peculiar eyes.

Little Angelina shook her head, opening the gate to Montague's garden she found herself a place beside him and got comfortable. "Would you like a peanut?"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Hogwarts: An Overview**

For Thaddeus Montague, attending _Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry_ had been something like a slap in the face. To say he had changed over the seven years of his stay would be an incredible understatement. If there was one thing however, about Montague that would always remain the same, it was his eyes.

By the time Montague was thirteen and entering his third year at Hogwarts, he had gained eleven inches in height, and some time between April and his fifteenth birthday had managed to express broad shoulders and a strong, athletic build. Over the years, Montague had allowed his hair to grow and it was now as it once had been; an entanglement of un-kept deep brown curls, that to his astonishment got the girls "oohing" whenever he so happened to walk passed.

To the female generation of Hogwarts at that time, Thaddeus Montague was a man of many unsolved mysteries. With his creamy skin and slight olive tinge, dark eyes and broad shoulders, Montague never found it hard to get what he wanted out of a woman – though at first it confused him silly wondering why so many of them wondered around him trying to keep his company. When he was twelve, he noticed in particular they liked it when he kissed them, and was intrigued by the amount of control he could have over a woman when he did much more than that.

Caesar had once told him that to get what you wanted out of a woman you had to have them begging, and in that respect Montague and his best friend Caesar Warrington had something in common, for he treated them just as Caesar did; as something to be used and thrown away. Never during his stay at Hogwarts had Montague found himself in a stable relationship - woman were emotional baggage and really only good for one thing. Besides, he found he quite enjoyed the taste and feel of a different body against him each night; it brought variation to the dull, drab life that came along with being an adolescent Slytherin at Hogwarts.

Besides their views on woman however, Caesar Warrington and Thaddeus Montague were very different people. Caesar was loud and ostentatious; a boy who knew he was good looking and made sure everyone else knew it too. Montague on the other hand, was quite the opposite. He seldom spoke to anyone unless he really had to and preferred to be out of the crowds and the spotlight. He was quite the walking mute, which to many just added demeanour to this mysterious man. The gawping and giggling actually annoyed him more than he obliged himself to show – except perhaps, when Angelina Johnson did it.

Giggling wasn't something Angelina did in her spare time – except during later years whenever she was in the presence of Fred Weasley – but every now and then during their time at school, Montague's gaze would drift from concentration and find them settled on Angelina, who he might find gazing at him – an air of longing visible in her eyes. Sometimes if she was feeling brave enough she attempted a shy, small, smile - but Montague never smiled back.

When they had started school and Angelina had gotten herself sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin he had told her to forget it. Montague would always remember the expression on her face when he had drawn their three year friendship to an ugly and rather brutal end. She had never understood why he did it. Why couldn't they still be friends?

"_You're being stupid, Montague!" She had yelled, and he could see she was fighting hard to stop her eyes from spilling over._

"_I'm not being stupid, Angelina. I'm being realistic." His words were cool and calm – carefully collected. That had annoyed her._

"_We've stayed friends for an entire year!" She cried "Why's it now you've decided we have to call it quits?"_

_Caesars words rang through Montague's mind and he had to fight not to look away from her. _"She might be alright looking mate but in the end she's still one of them."_ His nose had wrinkled in disgust. _"A filthy Mudblood."

"_Because you're dirty," Said Montague "you're a Mudblood. You shouldn't even be here!"_

_Angelina's eyes widened with horror. As if practised her hand came up quickly and smacked him hard across the face. It caught him by surprise. He was so shocked, that without thinking he hit her back - twice as hard. Her body crashed to the floor._

"_YOU'RE FILTH!" Montague screamed, and Angelina's breath caught in her throat. She didn't dare to breath._

_Montague wasn't prone to loosing his temper and it frightened her. He was angry that she had been sorted into Gryffindor and that he was about to loose her. It was all her fault. She must have done it on purpose. Perhaps she did it just to get away from him? _

_Angelina knew he would be thinking like that. He was her best friend and she knew him inside out. "Montague" Her voice was soft "we can still…"But she couldn't hold it, her voice broke and she had began to cry. She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her. His eyes were incensed, burning with hate. And she was on lying on the floor, trembling at his feet. He had hit her back – she hadn't expected that._

Over the years, Angelina Johnson had grown into what many would call a-striking-young-woman. She wasn't like other girls – she wasn't petit and frail and small. Angelina was tall, with legs that stretched into the next month and waist length bouncy black hair. She had coffee-cream skin, stunning slender almond shaped eyes, full lips and a slim athletic figure. The only thing that let her down was her lacking chest – in Montague's opinion – but that never fazed him – she was still stunning, and he absolutely hated himself for thinking so.

After their break up, there had only been one time that he and Angelina had encountered one another again during their years at Hogwarts before this story really begins. It was midway through their 7th year and the Weasley Twins had just pulled off their "Great Escape". Montague had escaped the parade of celebrating students to light a cigarette and get in some of that alone time that he so much enjoyed, when he came across Angelina, lying on one of the benches. She had her head hidden beneath her arms and was sobbing, her body rising and falling drastically. Montague stopped in his tracks.

He had probably been watching her for ten minutes before she sat up, groggily combing matted hair out of her eyes. Montague winced, she looked _terrible_. It seemed Angelina became very unattractive when she cried.

She startled when she saw him.

"How long have you been watching me?" She asked defiantly, her eyes unfocused.

Montague took the time out to light his cigarette before he replied steadily "Not long."

She nodded and "Right." was all she could manage to say. There was a loud bang and red and gold fireworks crackled overhead. She looked up briefly and her mouth drooped into a dramatic frown, her body began to shake again her breathing became unsteady.

Montague analysed her with an air of curiosity - just as he had all those years ago. She intrigued him. Even when her face was wet with tears and her mouth drooped dramatically. Even when her hair was a tangled mess and didn't look as though she had combed it for days, she still managed to astonish him. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"Fred!" She sobbed to herself, wiping her eyes on her jumper. "That fucking bastard!"

Montague continued to study her and she went on talking to herself as if he wasn't there. She used to do that when they were younger, and it seemed he hadn't grown tired of observing her. An awkward ten minutes walked by without either of them saying anything to the other, until Angelina looked over at him – her eyes squinty and defensive.

"What is your highness doing in the presence of such _filth_?"

Was she jeering him? He didn't bother to answer.

Angelina nodded to herself as if accepting the fact that he wasn't going to waste his time speaking to her. After all, hadn't he told her all those years ago that she wasn't worth while?

She got up and made to walk passed him, but stopped just before she could turn the corner. Montague could no longer see her.

She sighed. "It's stupid but, sometimes I still miss you."

His body tensed a fraction and he had to fight the urge to look her in the eye and see if she had meant it. Montague didn't see, but before she left Angelina had attempted to touch him. Her long, slim fingers had stolen themselves away from her side and she had been tempted to reach out and touch him, she wanted to hold him. She didn't know what Montague had grown into, but he was no longer the boy she had befriended that ordinary Morning in May, all those years ago.

As if there had been a barrier of ice blocking her from him, her hand froze in mid air and she quickly took it back and turned away. Montague was somehow, no longer approachable.

It had felt to them both, that that day would be the last they would see of one another. Angelina would go back to her ordinary life, and Montague would become a prestige – a man both desired and feared. It didn't occur to them however, that only by a few years of being separated, fate would bring them back together again.

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_Did that take me a long time to update? I'm sorry if it did; but writers block sucks. Anyway, I was so very happy with the reviews I got for the last chapter that I decided to update this one. I don't like it as much, but as I said writers block sucks. Review this one and I may write another chapter, depending on the feedback, because I finally know where this is going. I hope you're all well._

_ASQ_


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Change**

Times were slowly changing - the Wizarding World was no longer a safe haven for everyone with a magical ability. Over the years rebellions had formed in the shape of Death Eaters - Witches and Wizards obsessed with keeping the magical blood-line pure. They served under the order of one of darkest wizards that was to ever haunt the Wizarding World with his pure-blood-mania. His name was Lord Voldermort.

In 1997 a dark shadow fell over the Wizarding World. Professor Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry was murdered – an inside job many people had proclaimed - leaving practitioners of white magic only to fear the worst, for Albus Dumbledore had been the only person Lord Voldermort had been afraid of. With Dumbledore gone, it was only a matter of time before the dark arts crept its way into power. The balance of good and evil would be tipped and the Wizarding World would fall into a dark era.

On the evening of Albus Dumbledore's death, eighteen year old Angelina Johnson had been staying the night at her best friend Katie Bell's house. They were sat comfortably in their night garments on Katie's warm double bed, watching Casablanca on channel five and enjoying a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice-cream each, when three angry thuds against the front door startled them into looking up.

Fred Weasley had stood stooped at the door, his flaming red hair stuck flat onto his head and his black cloak hanging sodden and limp over his tall frame. He had come to tell them the news; Dumbledore was dead. This meant there was only a matter of time before there was a war. There was still a great amount of white magic practitioners that were willing to fight, but no one was promised that the outcome wouldn't be bloody. For now however, anyone willing to fight against the rebellion was keeping a low profile. Order of the Phoenix meetings were kept in secrecy, protection charms were being cast over houses of anyone thought to be a prime target, Harry Potter had left Hogwarts for good, and a few Muggleborns were starting to go into hiding.

Fred had looked up at Angelina with an air of dread about his gaze. They had stopped dating a long time ago, but it was still evident how much he loved her. She knew he wanted her to do the same. Run, or at least keep a low profile until the war was over. Muggleborns would soon become the biggest target after Harry Potter, wiping them out would be the easiest way to sustain purity. The world she had grown to call home was suddenly fighting to drive her out of it. Angelina's heart sank, she was devastated and would have let herself cry if Fred wasn't there, but she wouldn't run away.

In late 1997, Harry Potter was nowhere to be found and Fred's predication had come true - though no one doubted it wouldn't. After Harry, Muggleborns were the prime target. Therefore, this story officially starts in the middle of a great rebellion. The death toll in the Wizarding World had risen to a shocking 67 from the miniscule 21 it had been the previous year. 1/3 of that percentage had been quoted under "Mysterious Disappearances", and over half of those disappearances were Muggleborns. In late 1997, Angelina Johnson no longer went by her former name and status, instead she was a young woman named Briar Grant.

She could no longer be Angelina Johnson, former Gryffindor Quidditch captain. She had charmed her hair a fair copper red and told anyone who asked that she was a Slytherin whose parents were schooled on an Island in the West Indies and moved over to England when she was two years old. Briar Grant was not nineteen, but twenty-one years old, and was currently unemployed.

Katie Bell, who was also Muggleborn and natural blonde, was now a brunette who called herself Lucy Thornton.

The winds were cool and chipper as they blew against the leafless trees outside Alicia's apartment on Drawy Lane. It was creeping up to late November and already the weather was unbearably cold. Angelina wrapped a warm towel around her and stepped carefully out of the shower. Wiping her face dry, she looked about Alicia's steam flooded bathroom and sighed. It was a state. Four months previous to her and Katie's arrival she remembered how pristine Alicia kept the place. Now the shelves were packed with more tooth brushes, make up and accessories than they were built to take, and it was almost impossible to walk around the small flat without falling over someone's high heels.

Angelina made a mental note to herself to give the place a good clean once she could find the time. Alicia was their best friend; it was the least she could do. Something to say thank you for letting them stay there whilst Death Eaters patrolled the streets sniffing out anyone who was Muggleborn. She would run the idea by Katie when Alicia was out of earshot.

She walked out of the bathroom and headed towards the bedroom where she, Katie and Alicia all slept. She had made a bed out of the small two seated sofa in the room, and currently had all her belongings thrown hastily over the arms, back and cushions. She hadn't had much time to grab her things and leave that night Fred had arrived at Katie's apartment. He had demanded that she didn't bother going back to her own flat to pick up her things, suggesting he would do it instead. This had irked her a little. Fred was acting like she was a five year old who didn't know how to look after herself. Did he need to be reminded that it was thirty seven bludgers in total that had managed to knock her off her broom and have her plummeting to a near death experience throughout her seven year stay at Hogwarts? To his dismay she had disapparated home and was back with all the things she could stuff into one bag in less than half and hour. Besides, Fred wouldn't have thought to pack her sanitary towels.

As she pulled on her underwear and a pair of blue and black checked shorts, Alicia backed into the room, carefully carrying two large mugs of steaming black tea. She passed Angelina one of the mugs and sat on the sofa bed with a sigh.

Angelina took a quick sip and muttered her thanks. Settling herself beside her best friend and resting her head on her shoulder. Her fingertips felt warm around the body of the beaker.

Alicia drank from her mug. "Are you trying to turn me on, Johnson?"

Angelina giggled. It had been a while now since Alicia had come out about her sexuality. She remembered how afraid she had been about telling her and Katie. It was enough to be a gay Witch in the Wizarding World – their views on sexual preferences hadn't yet broadened to same sex relationships and they were still very middle-aged and naïve about the idea. Her parents wanted nothing more to do with her and the only contact she had with anyone in her family was to her younger brother Liam, who had told her secretly he thought it was "pretty cool".

Alicia had cried a lot more than Angelina had ever seen her do the night she had told them the truth. She hadn't considered how against same sex relationships the Wizarding World would be, but Alicia was a pure blood, and nowadays being different wasn't something anyone would wish for.

"I didn't think my B's could turn anyone on besides Fred."

Alicia played with Angelina's hair and took another sip from her mug. "Don't be stupid," she said firmly "I didn't think you were so insecure about it."

"I'm not!" Angelina protested "But you start to wonder when your last boyfriend was oh eight months ago and went by the name of Fred Weasley. I'm starting to think it might never happen again."

Alicia pulled away from Angelina and looked her sternly in the eye. She was a pretty, delicate young woman with bright brown eyes, pale skin and a bob of black hair. "Did I ever tell you red blonde really suited you?"

Angelina nodded. "Twice, actually."

"Well it does!" She said matter-of-factly. "I remember when you used to charm your hair colour every week until McGonagall told you it would fall out. Angelina, we're in the middle of a war – you're bound to start thinking things like that." Alicia got up quickly and pecked Angelina on the forehead. She sipped her drink again – which was now emitting less steam – and started heading towards the door. "Now drink your tea and put some clothes on before I'm forced to pounce." She cat-clawed her fingers. "I'm going to join Katie on the sofa, Romeo and Juliet is coming on in two minutes! I love Muggle technology!" She opened the door and made to walk out off the room, but turned around and announced quickly before she left. "Oh and btw, Vlora is coming to stay the night. She'll be here around seven." Alicia dashed out the door and was quickly out of sight.

"What!" Angelina groaned, and collapsed back onto the sofa.

-XXX-

Vlora Van-Horn was a Polish young woman with long, fluffy blonde hair and small blue eyes. She was Alicia's current girlfriend and she absolutely hated Angelina. No one could understand why. Katie said flat out that she was obviously a racist, but Alicia had denied that, saying she had taken well to meeting Lee Jordon. In her opinion, Vlora was jealous of Angelina.

"You're gorgeous!" She had tried to explain the night Angelina had decided she couldn't take it anymore and had brandished her wand to the back of Vlora's head. "She's obviously jealous of the two of us. We've known each other for ages! She asked me the first time she met you whether we'd ever … well you know."

Katie had looked almost offended. "I've known you almost just as long, why isn't she throwing snide remarks at me?"

Vlora arrived at half past seven holding a glass of wine in her hands and wearing a blue dress that hardly left anything to the imagination. Alicia had greeted her with a kiss Angelina thought was hardly appropriate to display in front of herself and Katie, then both the girls came round to the sofa's where she and Katie sat, Angelina miserably so.

She was wearing a pair of black denim shorts and a fitted, short sleeved red polar neck, her hair was plaited neatly into two pig tails.

Vlora greeted Katie with a hug which Katie responded to only half heartedly, making faces behind her back to Angelina which Alicia didn't fail to miss. She scowled at them both, but Angelina laughed silently. When it came to her greeting, Vlora only nodded disdainfully in her direction. Angelina mentally threw her out of he window.

They ordered two Pizzas, one simple margarita which was Katie's favourite, and a Pepperoni for Vlora. After chatting over a glass of wine, The Breakfast Club was switched on, but halfway through Alicia and Vlora managed to sneak away into the bedroom.

Angelina looked up and watched the door shut behind them both then listened as Katie turned up the volume on the television.

"Nothing I need to hear." Katie commented. "And I'm not sleeping on that bed with her tonight."

Angelina laughed and moved from the armchair she was in to join Katie on the couch. She took the time out to explain to Katie how she felt they should both try cleaning the place up tomorrow when Alicia went to work. Katie, although she hated cleaning anything with a passion, agreed to the idea. They were staying at Alicia's, unemployed and only being able to chip into the bill payments whenever they somehow fell into a bit of money. The least they could do was keep the place tidy.

A quarter of the way through the film and Alicia still wasn't out of her room with Vlora. Katie had started nodding off on the couch and Angelina had gone ahead with washing some of the dishes when an unworldly thud rang its way in from the front door (almost as though someone had thrown themselves against it). Angelina startled and dropped one of the saucers with a soap sodden hand. It smashed against the tiles. She cursed herself and made to start picking up the pieces when the door was knocked on four times.

"Who is it?" She called. But no answer came. Angelina walked towards the door. Remembering they were in the middle of a war, she set the chain on the latch, turned the handle and creaked the door open.

Her eyes scanned the cold, dark, stone corridor – but there was no one in sight. The passage way to Alicia's flat was dimly lit by a flickering lamp situated on the northern side of the hall. Moths and Fireflies fluttered blindly about the light, giving the hallway an eerie, flickering glow. It surprised Angelina how great a contrast the inside of Alicia's small flat was to the outside world, and she made to shut the door – content with idea that the door knocking must have been down to children (though at the back of her mind she wondered why she couldn't hear any). Then instinct made her look down. Her eyes levelled with a dark and bloodied figure lying unconscious at the foot of the door and Angelina screamed.

Quickly she closed the door shut and tried to pull the chain off the latch, but her fingers fumbled clumsily against the cold metal. "Katie! Katie, help me!" She called. But Katie didn't move.

When the chain finally swung free of the latch, Angelina knelt down beside the still body and turned its bloody face with her trembling fingertips. Her heart compressed within her chest and salt water leaked unwilling down her flushed cheeks. Angelina choked on her words; she couldn't get him to wake up. Oliver didn't move.

Angelina checked the hallway quickly, she hooked her hands under his arms and pulled. She moved backwards into the flat and tried to ignore the tracks of blood Oliver left behind as she dragged him. She tried to ignore the smell of death that lingered about his body. Quickly she dropped him onto the carpet and kicked the door shut, locking it manually then with every protection spell she knew. Angelina looked at the red markings on the white door. She looked down at her bare hands and legs – she was covered in blood.

Her heart drummed against her ears and she listened to the silence. She felt the dread hanging in the air above her, but she wouldn't let it consume her. Oliver didn't have the time.

Angelina stumbled across the hall and threw Alicia's bedroom door open.

The living room light spilled into the dark room and Alicia's head snapped up towards Angelina - her cheeks darkened. Quickly she swung her legs shut and grabbed the nearest thing she could use to cover herself with.

Alicia screamed at Angelina and her eyes were dark with rage. She looked annoyed, pissed off. Angelina had caught them during sex. She had yelled at the top of her lungs "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Angelina tried to explain. "Oliver's hurt." She said, but her words caught in her throat and she was trying hard not to panic. The last time she had seen Oliver was a week ago, he had gone to Alicia's for dinner with Fred, George and Lee. She remembered him smiling, all of them laughing together like they had back at Hogwarts. But the world was rapidly changing. A war was coming, and it looked as though it was slowly creeping closer to home. Angelina motioned to his blood on her skin.

When she turned back into the room, Katie was awake (the slamming door had awakened her) and kneeling gravely over Oliver's body. His face was ghostly pale. "He won't wake up!" She sobbed.

Angelina asked if he had stopped breathing but Katie only continued to weep. Growing impatient she knelt down beside him and checked for signs of life. His heart was still beating and she could feel his chest rising and falling. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought the need to sit there and cry. Katie was already doing that and Oliver wouldn't thank them for letting him die because they couldn't keep calm. She would have to take charge until Alicia was out of the room – she was the only one who had studied medicine.

"OK, Katie listen to me he's breathing – he's alive. But we're going to have to take off his robes, he's bleeding quite badly and I don't know where it's coming from."

Katie nodded and quickly got to work, she was half way through pulling off his jumper when Alicia came running through the bedroom door in a blue dressing gown. She gasped at the sight of her former Quidditch Captain and ran towards him, helping to quickly pull off his robes.

"What happened?" She asked frightfully.

It took them half and hour to clean Oliver up and position him comfortably on the couch. He was clean of all the blood and his wounds were neatly stitched. For an hour he looked as though he might never wake up, but when he did he groaned from the sudden pain, and everyone was just happy to hear him make a sound at all.

Angelina was the first person by his side. She had been running a flannel under the cold water tap, every now and then clearing the perspiration from his face and neck. He seemed to like it.

The first thing Oliver did when he woke up was ask where he was. He had attempted to sit up but the task proved too much for him and he feel back down, crying out in pain.

Angelina looked down at him firmly, wiping gently at his neck with the flannel. "Don't be so stupid, Oliver. Sit still." She shook her head. Oliver was always attempting the impossible.

"Angelina?"

She nodded contently and smiled. "Yes, it's me. It's nice to be recognised--"

"You're at my flat, Oliver." Alicia cut in. She was looking down at him through weary eyes. She checked his dilated pupils and felt his forehead with the back of her palm. "It's me, Alicia? Oliver we found you unconscious outside my front door." She laughed slightly. "I've never be so scared in my life--"

Katie spoke for the first time in two hours. She was sitting solitary in one of the armchairs furthest away from Oliver and the others. Her eyes looked dark and afraid and her face was pearly white. She hadn't had the courage to speak before this, none of them had really. Deep inside her heart she knew what was happening, but for the last two hours she had tried to deny it. Everything was easier to swallow when you lived in denial. That was why; four years ago the Ministry of Magic had decided not to believe Lord Voldermort was back – it was easier to live with lies.

Katie looked up from her knees at Oliver. He was the only one who knew the truth. "They're coming, aren't they?"

* * *

_To say I don't like the second half of this chapter would be lying through my teeth. I hate it, but to tell you the truth it was taking me too long to write and I was tired. I'm updating it because you're all so wonderful and your reviews made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. _

_This chapter is a bit longer than I would have liked it to have been, but bleh. What can we do? Please review and I will continue to continue. Thanks again to all those who reviewed the last time! MUCH LOVE._

_**ASQ**_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Run**

"I'm not leaving." There was no question in what was about to be suggested and Angelina had no intentions of going through with it.

"Angelina," Oliver sat up slowly. He was still in an immense amount of pain but she understood that he had time to feel it. "Katie's right; they're coming."

Katie – who had sat wordlessly on alert for the announcement – buried her face into her palms and sobbed quietly. Her heart was breaking.

"I have no doubt that they even followed me here. They could be outside, right now!"

Oliver wasn't helping the situation. Katie only cried harder and Alicia ran quickly to her side to comfort her. There was a dark cloud of dread hanging over number 12 Drawy Lane, and no one knew for certain whether things would ever get brighter.

Angelina paced the room and studied the patterns in the carpet. She wasn't listening. In fact was doing all she could to block Oliver out. "Yes, well." She attempted an obstacle. "Even if they have followed you here it doesn't mean we have to leave--"

Oliver looked jaded but more so confused. "Angelina you're not thinking properly--"

"Well what do you expect?" Her voice rose and everyone was suddenly victim to her anger. She felt almost betrayed. If Oliver hadn't gotten caught up in all of this everything would have still been relatively normal. Katie wouldn't be crying her heart out and Death Eaters wouldn't be about to ambush their home.

She had no choice but to blame someone for making a stupid mistake. Even if it didn't change the current situation it made her feel stronger to work with her anger than her fear. There wasn't time for them all to break down at once.

Angelina looked towards the ceiling and attempted to blink away her sudden tears. Alicia watched her through wide, poignant eyes and she understood that whatever happened next would be her choice to make. Katie wasn't strong enough to go alone – but she wasn't ready to resolve this. "I don't see why we should have to separate." She said finally.

Oliver groaned. "I thought we had already settled this? The plan was that if by any chance Death Eaters would find out that you both were here then you would flee. It's exactly what Fred would want you to do. It's exactly what we _agreed_."

"I know exactly what that plan was." Angelina's eyes narrowed at the mention of her ex boyfriend. "But Fred has nothing to do with this."

"We all have something to do with this!" Oliver got to his feet. He was annoyed with Angelina who was obviously not seeing reason, but also terrified for hers and Katie's safety and aggravated with himself for bating the danger. There was a lot to deal with but Angelina had no choice but to pull herself together. He wouldn't watch them die because of him.

Oliver was the kind of man who was used to leading things; he liked plans and order and didn't fancy spontaneity. Right then Angelina was attempting to be spontaneous. She was about to throw away all their plans based on the fact that she was suddenly afraid of the idea of them separating. She was afraid of being alone.

The problem was Oliver knew without any trace of a doubt that Death Eaters would be trailing him. It would have been no surprise to him if he had left foot trails of blood right up to Alicia's doorstep. They were wasting precious time arguing, he knew it – and so did Angelina.

Oliver looked down at her and Angelina seemed as though the mention of Fred's name at such a frightful time in her life had weakened her. She needed him, or at least she needed the idea of him – someone stronger than herself to be able to rely on. Angelina wasn't sure she could face it alone. She wasn't positive that she was strong enough to look after both her and Katie during such a dangerous time in this ongoing war. She didn't think she could and she didn't want to try.

Oliver grabbed hold of her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. She clutched onto his back and sunk into him – shaking for fear she might never see him again.

Oliver sighed. "I blame myself too."

Angelina let go of her anger and gave into her fear. She blinked and warm tears ran freely down her cheeks. "Oliver," she whispered gently so that only he could hear "I'm scared."

-XXX-

Protection Charms had been placed all and around the apartment and the last thing Angelina heard before she disapparated with Katie in her arms were three loud thuds against the front room door. Either they had placed the charms too late, or someone else had come to warn them of the imminent danger. Either way, she hadn't been able to stick around and find out.

With a loud pop, Katie and Angelina apparated onto a quiet street that neither recognized to begin with. Katie was so fragile that night that she fell the moment they landed. She was shaking violently and didn't stop crying until they had been walking for at least half an hour. Angelina had helped her to her feet and grasped tightly onto her hand. At times she felt as though she should let go – Katie's fingers were turning colour – but whenever she loosened the grip her best friend would only hold on tighter.

"If it means we have to hold hands until this God damned war is over then that's what we'll do, OK?" Katie wiped her nose on the back of her hand and smiled. "I'm not letting go."

The girls started to walk north towards the only lamppost that was lighting the street and stopped at a sign that told them they were still in the town where Alicia lived.

"We should leave here as soon as possible." Angelina decided aloud. If the place was crawling with Death Eaters then they wanted to be furthest away from it.

"Agreed" Nodded Katie "but where to?"

Angelina didn't reply straight away. She hadn't really thought about it. "I'm not sure." She said "the world is at our fingertips. We can go and do whatever we like."

Katie huffed and looked about the dark streets "Right now I could do with getting laid."

-XXX-

They had walked for another hour before it happened. Katie had suggested that they went somewhere that wasn't as central as London: "It's less likely that they'll be Death Eaters out in the countryside." She had said. So Angelina apparated them to the only place she really knew that fitted the criteria.

With a pop they were outside St Albans rail station.

"We're in Hertfordshire now," she said "it's not far off from London but close enough if we ever need to get back. I know a place around here where we can stay. We'll have to walk because I don't have any muggle money on me – do you?" Katie shook her head. "Well don't worry it's not far. Come on." They took each others hands again and started heading north. Angelina's aunt lived about a mile away from the university and she hoped she wouldn't mind the surprise visit.

Melanie Johnson didn't know her favourite niece was a witch. In fact she was told that Angelina had gone away to study at a private school in Kent during all her secondary school years, and then moved away to Manchester University to do a degree in English Lit. Angelina had always hated English at school; she didn't know why her father had chosen to lie about something that would be harder to keep up with than something closer to the truth. Maybe she would tell her aunt the truth when she got there – she chose to think about it closer to the time.

The county at night always seemed darker than it did in the city. There weren't thousands of lights coming from rows and rows of houses, clubs, bars and pubs, but instead the streets were colder and quieter, with few lamps lit to light the way. Out in the country it was easier to feel completely alone and for a while the only thing either girl could hear was the sound of their own footsteps against the pebbled earth. It was the sound of another however, that made Angelina stop.

Katie stopped a few metres ahead of her and raised a questioning eyebrow "What's the matter?" She asked, wrapping her arms around her waist to protect herself from the cold.

Angelina frowned. "Don't you hear that?"

Katie cupped her ear and tried to listen, but the look on her face said she couldn't hear anything. Angelina shook her head and continued walking. She figured she must have been imaging it until a great spark of green light flew past Katie's ear, missing her by inches.

Katie screamed and fell to the floor, shocked by the sudden break of light through the peaceful night which crashed and exploded into a brick wall a few metres ahead. She scrambled to her feet just in time to hear Angelina scream "Run!" and they both sprinted clumsily down the long road.

Angelina couldn't understand how it had happened, but she remembered it was over by a single heart beat. All she could hear was her heart, thundering between her ears in a painful state. She could feel the heat of each spell as it flew past her and missed by inches, and she could taste the blood in her mouth from where she had bit down on her tongue in panic.

They had turned a sharp corner and consequently met a dead end. Angelina thought she was going to explode. "Christ!" She screamed, and banged her fists against the wall. She knew leaving Alicia's flat was a mistake. She had felt it and cursed herself for listening to Oliver in the first place. They might have been better off together, but splitting up gave them a better chance of becoming Death Eater prey. She didn't understand how they could have tracked them to St. Albans but obviously some sort of dark magic was in play. Looking back she might have seen at least seven of them. If there had been less her and Katie may have been able to fight them off – but they were already as good as dead.

Before she had time to let the idea sink in, Katie pulled on her leg from where she had been sitting and gestured wildly towards a hole in the wall. "Look!" She said quickly, her voice dripping with hope. "We could get in! Get in!"

Angelina looked up towards the wand light reflected off of the brick wall which indicated that the Death Eaters were close, and then she looked down at the hole in the wall. It was so small she didn't even think she could get half of her body in there, but maybe Katie could. She had gotten an idea.

"Quickly then!" Angelina ushered Katie inside and watched as she crawled in. About an inch of space was left for her to try and squeeze into – she was right, she wasn't going to fit.

"Come on!" Katie cried, but Angelina shook her head. She took out her wand and pointed it towards her best friend.

"I love you." She muttered sadly, and a few stray tears managed to escape her glassy eyes. "And I won't let anything happen to you."

"Angelina …" Katie looked pale, cold and terrified. She was trembling uncontrollably through her fear. "… Angelina, don't!"

With each second the Death Eaters march grew more distinguishable. They were getting closer.

Angelina smiled weakly. "When we're all gone, go back to Fred and George and tell them what happened. Make sure we win this war Katie - I'm not going to die for nothing."

Katie attempted to scramble quickly out of the hole "Angelina, no- !"

"Stupefy! Protego!" Katie was knocked back into the hole and stunned – no one would find her until she woke up and remembered everything that had happened the night before.

When she got to her feet there was only one Death Eater stood there watching her. His black uniform had a golden edge from where the light shone behind him. Quickly Angelina grabbed her wand from out of her pocket; she was half way through screaming her spell when the Death Eater yelled "Expelliarmus!" and her wand flew out of her hand and clattered onto the floor.

"Locomotor mortis!" The Death Eater waved his wand and Angelina's legs locked together. She closed her eyes and waited to die, but the man in the mask walked quickly towards her - his robes billowing out behind him. Hurriedly he fixed his wand into one of his pockets and studied Angelina before speaking directly to her for the first time.

"Don't scream." Was all he warned, and then he punched her unconscious.

* * *

_Sorry it took me a while to update this! Reviews are lovely - they make me write faster. :)_


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